Reassurance
by GoldenUnicorn19
Summary: When tragedy strikes Victor on a late-night walk, Yuri is there to comfort him. Victuri oneshot, set after episode 12. Spoilers for episode 12.


**Reassurance  
**

Yuri paced the large living room of the house, alternating between glancing at his phone, with countless unanswered messages, and staring out the windows, which didn't show much besides the pitch black outside. Victor had left over four hours ago to take Makkachin, their poodle, for a walk and hadn't returned yet. He was furious, each footfall echoing loudly in the large house as he finally tossed his phone down onto the coffee table and stormed off into the kitchen to get his coat and shoes. He was going to go out there and-

The front door opened.

Yuri spun around immediately, nearly slamming face-first into the wall as he broke into a run towards the foyer. He came around the last corner at a dead sprint, and was relived, yet no less angry, to find Victor standing there just inside the door, his coat, scarf, boots, and gloves still on, with snow tangled into his silver locks.

"Victor Nikiforov!" Yuri yelled at his fiancé as he came to a stop in front of him. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been, what the hell where you doing-!?"

Victor didn't respond, didn't even move, he just stood silently on the rug, with his head hung low. Yuri's eyes widened when he heard Victor sniff, and saw the older man's shoulders shake almost imperceptibly.

Was he crying?

Yuri's suspicions were confirmed when Victor finally looked up to meet his gaze, and his blue eyes were filled with tears, his cheeks already streaked with dried tear trails.

"Vitya?" Yuri asked softly, taking a single step forward.

"Yuri!" The younger skater's name was ripped from Victor's throat with a sob, as he fell forward into Yuri's arms.

Yuri stood in shock for a moment, all his anger forgotten in the face of his stricken lover, and replaced with a fresh wave of concern. The last, and first, time Yuri had ever seen Victor cry real, heartbroken, tears like these ones, was when Yuri had told him that he was going to retire after the Grand Prix Final, and that had been a long time ago. Now, Victor was crying uncontrollably in Yuri's arms. That's when Yuri realized a very important detail that he'd overlooked before, in the midst of his rage at Victor.

Makkachin was missing.

"Vitya…" Yuri repeated helplessly as Victor's arms tightened around his body.

"It's all my fault." Victor whispered, gasping for air.

"Relax, breathe." Yuri soothed, gently pulling the thick scarf away from Victor's neck so he wouldn't overheat. "Just..."

Yuri gently pushed Victor away from him so he could unzip the coat too. The older man stood quietly as Yuri removed his coat, gloves, and finally, his boots.

"I'm sorry Yuri." Victor mumbled.

"No." Yuri interrupted. "I'm sure there's a perfectly valid reason for this."

He turned away from the coat rack to find that Victor had started crying again, his eyes closed tight. Yuri sighed.

"Come on, Vitya." Yuri said, leading Victor towards the living room where he'd been pacing angrily, plotting to murder this very man, just a few minutes prior. "You need to sit down."

Victor nodded wordlessly, suddenly overcome with fatigue. He sat down on the couch next to Yuri, leaning heavily on him.

"Do you want to talk about it or… do you just want to sleep?" Yuri asked, gently combing his fingers through Victor's silver hair, now damp from the snow that had previously clung to it.

"Sleep." Victor said, his voice hoarse.

Yuri moved quickly, wrapping one arm around his fiancé's torso and pulling him down with him as he lay back on the couch. He set his glasses on the coffee table with his unoccupied hand and then wrapped his other arm around the man on top of him. Victor curled into the familiar warmth beneath him, nuzzling his face into Yuri's neck as he fell asleep.

 _Victor finished tying his dark green scarf around his neck and opened the front door to the grand house, stepping outside with Makkachin at his heels. The outside was layered in soft white snow, tinted orange from the setting sun. Makkachin took the lead, bounding happily through the snow on the sidewalk as Victor followed at a slower pace. The poodle eventually slowed as they got further into the town, and fell back until he was walking beside Victor. They kept wandering aimlessly along the sidewalk, through the town. They passed the ice rink at one point, but Victor decided against going inside with Makkachin. Besides, his skates were at home and he'd practiced once with Yuri already today._

 _The sky gradually grew darker as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, and the soft shades of orange and pink changed to a deep black dotted with white stars. The Russian skater looked up to the sky, and stopped walking to watch the small white snowflakes that had began to slowly drift down from above._

 _The peaceful silence of the winter night was shattered instantly by Makkachin's loud yelp of pain accompanied by the sound of squealing tires. Victor spun around to face where the poodle had been standing beside him just moments before, but instead found running paw prints heading directly into the street, the trail ending at Makkachin's body laying on the pavement._

"Vitya?" A faraway voice asked worriedly.

 _The scene changed to a veterinary clinic waiting room, where Victor was standing face-to-face with the vet that worked there._

" _I'm sorry, Mr. Nikiforov, but Makkachin didn't make it through the emergency surgery."_

"Vitya, wake up, your dreaming."

Victor struggled to respond to both the vet and the voice he knew belonged to his fiancé as he finally opened his eyes.

Yuri was no longer lying underneath him, but sitting on the wooden floor beside the couch, once again gently raking his fingers through Victor's soft hair, trying desperately to soothe the older man.

"Are you alright?" Yuri asked, watching Victor sit up on the couch and push his hair away from his face with one hand.

"No." Victor said quietly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, but turning his gaze on Yuri. "I'm not."

"Right, that was a stupid question…" Yuri said, mentally kicking himself.

"Makkachin's dead." Victor said out of the blue.

Yuri turned away from the Russian skater's stare, choosing instead to look down at the wooden floorboards of the living room, which blurred as Yuri's eyes suddenly filled with tears too.

"I'm sorry Yuri, I don't know why I told you like that."

"It's okay… I figured that's what happened but… how?"

"A car…" Victor wasn't able to continue as his throat constricted.

Yuri didn't push for anything more, but inside, he was just as torn as his fiancé. It was Vicchan all over again, it all happening so suddenly and unexpectedly, and Yuri not there during it.

He heard Victor sniff, and looked up, expecting to see even more tears only to find a curious expression on his face.

"What's that smell?" Victor asked. "Did you make… Katsudon?"

"Oh, yeah." Yuri smiled. "I did."

Victor smiled at the young skater and his attempt, and success, to reassure him.

"Oh, Vitya?"

"Hm?"

"Catch."

Before Victor knew what was happening, Yuri pulled one of the coasters off the coffee table he was still sitting next to, and tossed it towards Victor's calves. Instinctively, he lunged downwards to catch the marble square, and only realized what Yuri's intentions were when one finger pressed gently against the top of his head.

Victor smiled.

* * *

 **A/N: I dunno why my first ever Victuri fic is so angsty but eh whatever. So I had the idea for this fic at ten or so at night and was up until after midnight in the morning writing it. Then I got up the next morning and decided I didn't like the way it was written and had to re-write almost the entire thing, with the same plot.**

 **I hate late night writing, sugar-driven me.**

 **~Uni**


End file.
